


Cocky freshman

by Thuggy



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Aoba is a sophmore, Highschool AU, Koujaku is a junior, M/M, Noiz is a freshman that likes to pick on the older guys, This is probably OOC, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3818551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuggy/pseuds/Thuggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah, yes, high school; the supposed “best four years of your life”, as called by adults. Those were the years you were to be your best at! You’d be popular with the ladies and would be envied by the guys, they would always say. Sometimes that was true for the luckiest people.<br/>But, Aoba Seragaki was definitely not one of the lucky ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocky freshman

Ah, yes, high school; the supposed “best four years of your life”, as called by adults. Those were the years you were to be your best at! You’d be popular with the ladies and would be envied by the guys, they would always say. Sometimes that was true for the luckiest people, such as the well-known  junior football player. Despite just starting off as a junior, he was most likely one of the most popular guys at school.  
  
But, Aoba Seragaki was definitely not one of the lucky ones. That was his best friend that was a lucky one; after all, he was extremely well with the ladies and some guys if they swung that way. He’d rather not forget about the others who identified as maybe neither a boy or a girl, or both, either works.  
  
Aoba, on the other hand… not so much. He was known, but not quite as popular as his handsome friend. One might say he was a bit… awkward, too- having a tendency to fidget and stutter from time to time. He admitted to that, after all, there was no use denying the truth. He was a bit self-conscious on previous events in his earlier years, more so in junior high. The comments made it worse, especially when people said things such as,  _“Aoba, you used to fight so often! What happened to that strength?”_ to which he would always grumble in response.  
  
Still, despite his popularity, Koujaku always seemed to sweep in and save him. After shooing off the people, he always had that same smirk and the cock of the head. At times he would ask, “What happened to telling me when you need help?” jokingly. Aoba would always find himself getting flustered at the teasing remark. At this, he would, most of the time, mutter something incoherent. Sometimes it was telling him to shut up, other times calling him a hippo. This happened quite a lot when he was a measly freshman and Koujaku was a sophmore. To be honest, he didn’t really think that it would change all that much when he was promoted to a sophmore.   
  
He soon found out on his first day of his second year that he was, very, very wrong.  
  
Koujaku texted him while he was walking to school, telling him to meet the older at the front of the school, near the water fountain. He, of course, agreed and began to walk a bit faster than intended. There was no shame of being excited to see your best friend, right?   
  
His boots clanked on the sidewalk and he came to a stop when he came close to the front yard. He made a confused noise, his ears seemed to perk, or he at least imagined them to. His lips formed into a tight line at the loud… was it cheering? He couldn’t tell.   
  
 _What’s so special about the first day of school?_ He wondered as he jogged over to the corner of the building.   
  
“Kou-?” He was interrupted at another flare of screaming. Intrigued, he peered over, hiding his body behind the corner.   
As he expected, there was Koujaku, but he looked as if he was going to fight the kid standing across from him. There was a crowd around the two, cheering them on.   
  
 _So this is what they were so loud about.  
_  
Confused, Aoba put his attention on the other boy. He had neatly brushed hair, but it was halfway covered with a beanie, a couple buttons placed on it. He allowed his eyes to go a bit lower to inspect the boy’s face. His eyes, Aoba could admit, were a pretty green color, but they seemed… what was the word? Indifferent, unlike Koujaku’s eyes that showed anger at the moment.   
  
This boy had a lot of piercings; he had his eyebrow pierced twice, a bridge piercing, and snakebites to match. His ears definitely had more than three on them.   
  
He knitted his brows together; he had never seen this kid before. Was he a freshman?   
  
 _Koujaku must not be in his right mind. Picking a fight with fresh meat- what is he thinking?_  
  
Koujaku raised a trembling fist to attempt to strike at the younger boy. Aoba could hear him yelling something about him being an ungrateful little brat. The boy didn’t seem fazed.   
  
Panicking, Aoba immediately ran out of his hiding spot and over to his best friend. He then wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him back. He heard himself cry out, “Koujaku, stop!”  
  
“Aoba-” Koujaku began to say, but stumbled a bit and almost threw Aoba off. But, yet, he kept his arms tight around his waist, keeping him restricted.   
  
“Uwa, seems like _prince charming_ is here,” The pierced boy mused, fiddling with the bandages wrapped on his hands. Koujaku tried to step up, his fists clenched again. Aoba kept his grip.  
  
“What did you say,  _brat?!”_ He growled, his cheeks coloring just the slightest.  
  
“I  _said, ‘seems like prince charming is here’,”_ The boy replied, drawing out the sentence. Aoba raised his eyebrows, attempting to ignore the hotness flaring in his cheeks.  
  
“Koujaku, don’t take it so personal,” Aoba whispered, shaking his head at him. Koujaku looked back at the blue haired male, his expression softening, the anger seeming to slip from his ruby eyes. At that point, Aoba knew he could let him go.  
  
“Gross,” The boy muttered, his nose crinkling in mild disgust. “Why don’t you two get a room? I’m in no mood for the two of you to get all lovey-dovey.”  
  
Aoba breathed in, and walked a bit closer to him. “We are not being lovey-dovey, kid, we’re just -” He flinched at the sudden ringing of the bell, signalling for the teens to come in. He took one last glance at the boy before walking inside, his hands stuffed in his pockets.  
  
He hurried to his scheduled classroom and hurried over to a seat near the back. He always hated being in the front, where people could spot him so easily, anyway. He dropped his bag near where his feet were placed on the ground and slipped into the desk. He leaned down and rested his head on the table, silently waiting for the period to start.   
  
He made a startled noise and raised his head to look over when he heard the scooting of a chair. There stood the boy he  _technically_ met earlier, smirking at him.  
  
“Mind if I sit here, prince charming?”  
  
Confused, Aoba quirked an eyebrow at the question. He glanced around the classroom to see if any other seats were open. Something that confused him even more was that, yes, there was open seats everywhere. He wanted to say something, maybe, “Why next to me?” or something like that. He figured that the boy only wanted to mess with him, since he broke up the fight. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say “no, go away.”; that would be rude, wouldn’t it?  
  
He waited a long moment before nodding and then going back to resting his head on his desk. “Sure, why not,” He murmured. Maybe the kid wanted an acquaintance to talk to, or something. Even if he  _did_ want to push at Aoba’s buttons, to see what makes him tick, Aoba promised himself to not break like Koujaku did.  
  
He could feel him staring, it was even a bit hard to shake off. He was about to tell him to knock it off, it was creepy, before he shut his mouth at the feeling of hands on his long strands of hair.   
  
“Your hair is pretty long, isn’t it?” The boy asked, his head tilted to the side. Aoba knew that it was a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway, gritting his teeth.  
  
“ _Yes,_ I know very well that my hair is long, and I’d  _appreciate_ it if you wouldn’t touch it,” He choked out, smacking the bandaged hand away. He then fixed some fly-aways that got lost from the group. The boy chuckled, making Aoba turn the slightest pink in anger. “Don’t laugh at-”  
  
The boy covered his mouth, muffling the laughs a bit. “You’re pathetic, aren’t you? Pretty boy doesn’t like having his hair touched?” He teased.  
  
Anger was beginning to bubble deep in his stomach at the snide remark. Now he knew how he got under Koujaku’s skin; hitting the cheap shots.   
  
“I’m not in the  _mood_ to be messed with right now over something stupid like my hair. So what if I like it long, or if I don’t want it to be touched? That’s none of your business,” He growled out.  
  
Again, the boy didn’t fazed, his face just fell into his neutral expression per usual. He seemed to huff and look away, eyebrows furrowing. Aoba smirked at that; maybe he  _did_ faze him just a bit.  
  
More and more students were piling into the designated classroom, filling the seats. The blue-haired teen glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow. The bell was about to ring soon, where was the teacher?  
  
As though it was on cue, the door opened to reveal a young woman with long, brown hair pulled into a bun. She couldn’t have been over 30, Aoba thought.  
  
She smiled at the class and walked over to her desk to set down her papers. Were they files? He couldn’t quite tell. His hazel orbs flicked to the paper she picked up into her hands. The lady cleared her throat, silencing some of the teens who were chatting amongst themselves. She grabbed at a pen and began to call out names.  
  
Aoba couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment; as far as he knew, he would be farther down the list as others. After all, his last name started with an “S”, leaving plenty of people to go before him. But, he couldn’t quite shake off his surprise when the teacher called out someone named, “Noiz”.  
  
 _What a weird name,_ He thought to himself, his lips forming a tight line.  _I wonder which poor sap is stuck with_ that  _one._  
  
“Here,” A voice replied. Aoba nearly did a double take as he looked over at the boy next to him. _No way. It’s him?_ He had to keep himself from laughing a bit at that; no wonder he was so rude! With the name like that, he inferred that  _he_ would be angry at the world too. The boy- or now known as Noiz, must have heard his muffled giggle because he turned his head to glare at him. He almost turned away the moment Noiz looked at him, not wanting the other boy to know that he was staring.  
  
“Seragaki Aoba?” The teacher called, almost making him flinch. He raised his hand a bit and waved it, looking back at her.  
  
“Ah, here,” He replied, his cheeks going a pale pink at the fact that he stuttered. She didn’t seem to notice, though, but instead gave a quaint quirk of the corners of her lips and nodded at him. Then she looked back down to her paper to shout out more of the names to see if everybody was here. He could hear Noiz snort from beside him, making him lower his hands into his lap and balling them.  
  
“Nice name, pretty boy,” He whispered to him, and as Aoba expected, it was said sarcastically. His grip on his own fists tightened. “Ah, am I agitating you,  _Aoba?”_ He pushed farther.   
  
He took a deep breath and looked at Noiz in the eyes.  _"Look,"_ He began, his voice deeper than usual. "I don't know  _why_ you're messing with me, or why you think it's so funny, but it's-"  
  
"Aoba? Is everything all right back there?" The teacher interuppted. He felt the stares of everyone of every grade on the two of them. The teacher cocked her head ever so slightly, her expression confused. Aoba felt his cheeks go a bit hot.  
  
"Uh, y-yes! Everything is fine," He replied, to which she nodded and continued with rollcall. His bottom lip trembled in embarrassment, and he covered his face in his hands.  
  
He could feel a smug smirk directed at him, still poking and prodding at him.


End file.
